Today we sang: "By the waters of Babylon we sat down and wept as we remembered Zion" (Psalm 135:1).
Consider the waters of Babylon. These waters symbolize all that captivates hearts and traverses this realm. For instance, one individual may find joy in agriculture, seeking wealth from it, preoccupying his thoughts with it, and then relishing it; let him reflect on the end result and recognize that his affection is not rooted in the foundation of Jerusalem, but rather in the flow of Babylon. Another might claim, "To be a soldier is commendable; all farmers tremble before soldiers."
Yet, the citizens of holy Jerusalem, upon realizing their bondage, observe how the natural desires and various passions of humanity hasten and pull them in all directions, leading them to perdition. They witness this and do not plunge themselves into the waters of Babylon, but instead sit down and weep, either mourning for those swept away by these desires or for themselves, whose actions have placed them in Babylon. To sit signifies humility. O holy Zion, where everything is steadfast and nothing is in flux! Who has led us into this predicament? Why have we strayed from your Creator and your fellowship? In a place where all things flow and slip away, scarcely anyone, if they can grasp a branch, can pull themselves out of the current and escape.
Humbled in our bondage, let us sit by the waters of Babylon; let us refrain from diving into those streams, nor take pride in the evil and sorrow of our captivity, but instead let us sit down and weep. Let us sit by the waters, not under them; such is our humility, that it should not overwhelm us. Sit humbly by the waters, and do not utter a word, as one would not in Jerusalem.
For many weep with the cries of Babylon because they also find joy in its pleasures. When individuals rejoice in what they gain and lament over their losses, both belong to Babylon. We should grieve, but for the remembrance of Zion. If you weep recalling Zion, even amid joy in Babylon, you should still weep.
"Upon the willows in the midst of it we hung our musical instruments" (Psalm 135:2). The inhabitants of Jerusalem possess their instruments, God's scriptures, His commandments, His promises, and reflections on eternal life, yet while they dwell in Babylon, they hang their instruments. Willows are barren trees; in this context, they cannot yield anything good. Here, they recognize the barren trees that grow by the waters of Babylon, which are nourished by its waters yet bear no fruit. Just as there are individuals who are greedy and devoid of good works, wholly belonging to Babylon, consuming fleeting pleasures as if sustained by the waters of Babylon. You seek fruit from them but find none. Thus, deferring the application of Scripture to them, we hang our instruments on willows, deeming them unworthy to bear our songs. We do not place our instruments within them or tie them to them; instead, we suspend their use. For the willows represent the barren trees of Babylon, nourished by transient delights, much like the waters of Babylon.
For there, those who captured us demanded of us words of songs, and those who led us away sought a hymn (Psalm 135:3). They asked us for melodies and hymns, who took us into captivity... We are enticed by the allure of worldly pleasures and daily grapple with the pressures of illicit desires; we scarcely breathe freely even in prayer; we acknowledge our captivity. But who has taken us captive? What kind of men? What lineage? What rulers? If we are redeemed, it means we were once held captive. Who redeemed us? Christ. From whom did He redeem us? From the adversary. Thus, the adversary and his angels took us captive, and they would not have succeeded unless we had consented.
So, those who ensnared us, the adversary and his angels, when they asked us, "Sing us one of the songs of Zion," what shall we say? Babylon carries you, Babylon sustains you, Babylon fills your mouth with its words; you do not understand how to seize what glimmers in the present, nor do you comprehend the eternal. How do we sing the Lord's song in a foreign land? (Psalm 135:4). Indeed, brethren, this is the reality. Begin to long to proclaim the truth as you know it, and you will see how you must endure the scorn of those who deride it, the adversaries of truth, filled with deceit. Respond to them when they inquire about what they cannot accept, and boldly declare in your sacred song: How shall we sing the song of the Lord in a strange land!
But consider how you dwell among them, O people of God, O body of Christ, O noble assembly of wanderers (for your true home lies elsewhere), lest, having grown fond of them, you seek their companionship and, unafraid to please such individuals, allow Babylon to charm you, leading you to forget Jerusalem. Therefore, mindful of this, pay attention to the psalmist’s warning: if I forget you, O Jerusalem (Psalm 136:5), amidst the voices of those who ensnare me, amidst the words of treacherous men, amidst the requests of those who inquire with malice, yet will not learn... What follows? If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget its skill.
Let my tongue cling to my palate if I do not remember you (Psalm 135:6). This signifies, let me be silent, he says, if I fail to recall you. What word, what sound does he utter who does not express the songs of Zion? It is our own tongue, the song of Jerusalem. To sing of love for this world is to speak a foreign dialect, gleaned in captivity. He who forgets Jerusalem shall be mute before God. Yet, mere remembrance is insufficient: even her adversaries recall her, wishing to see her downfall. What sort of city is this? They ask, who are the Christians? What manner of people are these Christians? Were they not Christians? The captives now frustrate their captors; they still murmur and are irate, wishing to obliterate the holy city, which sojourns among them as a stranger. Therefore, it is not merely about remembering; be attentive to how you remember. Some things are recalled with animosity, others with affection. Thus, when he stated: "If I forget you, Jerusalem," he immediately added: "If I do not hold Jerusalem dear at the height of my joy."
Indeed, there exists a pinnacle of joy where we find delight in God, where we are secure from the brotherhood and union of commonality. There, no tempter shall assail us, nor can anyone lead us into temptation; there, nothing shall please us but the good; there, every desire shall die, and there, perfect bliss shall illuminate us.
Then he directs a plea to God regarding the foes of that city: "Remember, O Lord, the children of Edom" (Psalm 136:7). Edom, synonymous with Esau; for you have just heard the apostle's declaration, "Jacob I loved, but Esau I hated" (Romans 9:13). Esau embodies all that is carnal, while Jacob represents all that is spiritual. All earthly individuals stand in opposition to the spiritual, for those who crave the temporal persecute those who yearn for the eternal. Upon them, the psalmist, reflecting on Jerusalem, implores God for deliverance from captivity and says: What? "Remember, O Lord, the children of Edom." Deliver us from fleshly people, from those who emulate Esau, elder brothers yet adversaries. They were the first fruits, but the last fruits have emerged, for the desires of the flesh undermined the first, while the disdain for lust exalted the latter. Others live, envy, and persecute during the day of Jerusalem—the day when he was tested, when he was imprisoned, or the glorious day when he was liberated, when he attained his goal, when he became a partaker of eternity? Remember, he says, Lord, do not forget those who proclaimed: "Tear it down, destroy it to its foundations." Recall the day they wished to obliterate Jerusalem. How great were the persecutions the Church endured! As the sons of Edom, that is, earthly individuals, servants of the devil and his angels, who worshiped idols and pursued the cravings of the flesh, called out: "Eradicate the Christians, annihilate the Christians, let them not stand alone, destroy them to nothing!" Were these words not spoken? And when uttered, the persecutors were vanquished, and the martyrs were crowned.
Then he addresses her: O daughter of Babylon, wretched; wretched even in her countenance, in her arrogance, in her antagonism; wretched daughter of Babylon! (Psalm 135:8). The city is called both Babylon and the daughter of Babylon; just as Jerusalem, and the daughter of Jerusalem, Zion, and the daughter of Zion, the Church, and the daughter of the Church are referenced. Accordingly, since it follows the first, it is deemed a daughter; since it is compared to the first, it is called a mother. Was there a prior Babylon that its citizens were left to inhabit? Being the heir of Babylon, it is thus referred to as the daughter of Babylon. O daughter of Babylon, you wretched one!
"Blessed is he who repays you as you have dealt with us" (Psalm 135:9). What kind of recompense does he envision? The psalm concludes: "Blessed is he who takes your children and dashes them against the rock." He deems her unfortunate, but blessed is he who pays her as she has treated us. Are we to inquire what the reward entails? It is recompense. For what has this Babylon inflicted upon us? We have already chanted in another psalm: The words of the wicked have prevailed against us. For when we were born, the chaos of this world overwhelmed us and suffocated us, our infancy filled with vain concepts and various deceptions. The infant, destined to be a citizen of Jerusalem, yet for a time confined as a prisoner, when will he acquire the ability to cherish true values aside from what his caretakers whisper? They teach and mold him in avarice, larceny, daily fabrications, the worship of diverse idols and demons, illicit charms and talismans. What can a child, an impressionable spirit, observing the actions of the elders, do but imitate what he sees? Babylon persecuted us in our infancy, but when we matured, God granted us the awareness to avoid the errors of our parents.
How do they repay her? As she has treated us. Let her children be suffocated in turn; indeed, let her children be broken and perish. What are the offspring of Babylon? Malevolent desires from their inception. For some must grapple with unyielding lusts. When a desire is born, before a corrupt habit gains a grip on you, when the desire is tender, do not allow it to gain the strength of an evil habit; when it is involved, shatter it. Yet, you fear that, even if broken, it will perish. Break it against the Rock; that Rock is Christ (1 Corinthians 10:4).